She took his tankard, and having given the labourers their change and wished them good-night, she brought it back to him filled. God would forgive her this sin. Even if he were drunk she wanted to keep him at the Buffalo, for she dreaded Abner’s strength. When she returned he was still on his feet, talking indistinctly to the old man, who was shaken by a fit of coughing that choked him. She thumped his back.
‘That’s right, dad,’ said George. ‘Better out than in!’ The joke appeared to please him.
She drew him down gently to his chair and gave him the tankard.
‘Sit down, my dear,’ she said. ‘I want to talk to you.’
‘I’ve done talking,’ said George obstinately. ‘Let me get at him: that’s what I want. Let me get at the dirty pair of them!’
She bent over him and whispered in his ear.
‘The money, George,’ she said. ‘Where did you put it? She told me you hadn’t hid it in the house, but I reckon she lied to me, or they couldn’t have lived all this time with him out of work. They must have got at it. Where did you put it, my son?’
He stared at her with affected stupidity. ‘What money?’
‘Fifty pounds. Out of my box. I guessed it was you that had it. That’s why I didn’t dare tell the police.’
He laughed. ‘Good old woman! I knew you wouldn’t. You’re a good mother. I’ll say that for you.’